Desert's Blossom
by Sasukeluva 4eva
Summary: 'And once the Mystic Script is read for all to hear, the Loved ones return to whom they once held so dear.' One Spell leads to a Journey of Love and Self-Sacrifice, where she can only remain by his side for as long as FATE Dictates. AU-FIC; Ancient Egypt.


**a/n: Another plot bunny has hit; deal with itttt.**

**Disclaimer: IDNON, BIDHTOS! That is all.**

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**S**u_m_**m**a_r_**y**_ (full): _

_A sequence of events leads to a certain pink haired woman being warped back in time to the ancient past—HER ancient past. _

_And if that wasn't bad enough, the fact that she has to avoid her growing attraction to the resident Pharaoh of Egypt makes the situation all the more unbearable. _

_What's a girl to do? _

_Play Princess, of course. _

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**S**a_s_**u**k_e_**l**u_v_**a **4_e_**v**a_ p_**r**e_s_**e**n_t_**s_;_**

_**Desert's Blossom**_

_Sasuke x Sakura AU Lemon Fanfic_

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_[__**"Speak the Mystical Script inscribed on the papyrus, and you shall witness for yourself what is missing from your memories." **__It seemed harmless enough. _**How wrong she was**_. "Do you not desire me?" "I-I honestly can't say. Perhaps ask again tomorrow?"]_

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**C**hapter_ 1__  
_**[WTF?—**Imagining** is the first step into INSANITY]**

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Brief flickers of chatter chirped dully in the surroundings as tourists of all distinction made their mark upon Cairo's National Museum, spreading out amongst the encased artefacts so as to bring a sense of distance between the others that swelled in the suddenly claustrophobic surroundings.

People of all ages were leaning forward over the red velvet ropes (violating at least seven separate rules by doing so), peering at the smaller, otherwise unnoticeable inscriptions made into the bases of certain ancient relics, eyes widened in awe as they brandished their expensive, flashy cameras, adjusting the lenses before a series of blinding white flashes erupted, something that was clearly against the guidelines of the director's set rules; trouble was soon to ensure, that was a given.

A pale woman with equally pale pink—yes, _pink_—hair stood before a large chest, plated with semi-precious stones (lapis lazuli, sapphires, emeralds [no surprise that they were her favourite], amethysts, blood red diamonds—rare as they were, and are—specially imported from the lower regions of Africa, and oddly enough, black zirconias), inquisitive green eyes scanning over the hieroglyphs in mostly feigned interest. What she was waiting for was the chance to view the renowned sarcophagus of the past King, _Aha_—whose real identity, _name_, was left unknown.

The young woman had always shown a great aptitude for such historical findings, and since the dawn of the twenty-first century, she had found herself constantly fixated an immersed with his plights, tribulations, and most of all, romances.

Apparently he had been considered quite the 'Romeo' of his time (although he had long since taken precedence over a character that had been created thousands of years after he left the earth; perhaps he was the influence for such a character? No one would ever know…), and had wooed thousands of potential suitors into his chambers, before disposing of them after having a quick romp… or two… maybe more; again, who knew?

Sighing in prolonged frustration, the young woman shifted on her feet, blowing a mouthful of air upward so that the stray bang of hair would ultimately shift back into place, before refocusing on the faded cartouche before her, something she had seen countless times before in magazines and pictures on the internet; as amazing as it was to see it in person, she just couldn't bring herself to pay full attention to every minor detail, as critically acclaimed as she was to such mediocrities (she was renowned for it back in her Tokyo University)—what she was waiting for was all her mindset would process.

It would be unacceptable if she missed her chance, as it was a once in a lifetime showing; after this special exhibition, the tomb was to be extensively catalogued and sealed away in the archives until they had enough extra resources and funding to refurbish the museum to accommodate for the Pharaoh's entire collection of royal burial items.

It was rumoured that it would rival that of Tutankhamen's display on the top floor, directly across from it in fact was where they had planned to place the exhibit of Ancient 'Goods'; why not, when it would obviously mean an explosion in tourist rates and taxation for the Egyptian Government?

They would make countless _billions_ from the somewhat fraudulent scheme.

The young woman quite frankly found it highly _insulting_ that they were exploiting a five thousand year old dead _King_ in order to bring the money in; where did all of their former respect for their past monarchs run off to?

Surely their heritage came as a top-notch priority atop collecting large sums of cash?

Looking at the greedy expression on the nearby curator's face, the rosette haired woman was led to the conclusion of _no_ —no longer did their fallen history come first when held in worth against their currency.

Suppressing the nasty scowl that would have otherwise marred her pretty features, the girl slowly edged her way toward the next display item, her eyes always straying, flickering to the nearby doorway, one which had been sealed securely, yet decorated with fabulous and intricate décor, all typically stylised to follow the former Ancient Egyptian furnishings; the door alone made for a work of pure art, what with its delicate carvings and gold leaf finish—it seemed refined yet somewhat _nostalgic_ for reasons the young woman could not even disclose.

Shaking those disturbing thoughts from her head, the pinkette returned her constantly wandering gaze to the gold-plated fan before her, the remnants of past ostrich feathers spewing from the top in frayed clumps; even without the plumage, the artefact was still stunning to the untrained and trained eye alike.

Thank the lord she was fluent in six languages, otherwise this would ideally not have been translatable (nor would she have the same appreciation for foreign culture).

The hieroglyphs dated back to the time of Pharaoh 'Aha', if not a little earlier, and the inscription itself was vaguer than the explanation given (more like _offered_, seeing as what they had written was completely off-track to what had been initially written) affront it, due to the constant 'wear and tear' of erosion (caused most probably by the fluctuations in weather change, i.e. sandstorms, torrential rain, a rise in humidity et cetera).

It basically detailed the origins of the 'Mysterious Mistress' that 'Aha' had had in the very prime of his rule, a woman of unspoken beauty and intellect, one that he had truly loved with his entire heart, body and soul, and how she was tragically snatched away by the clutches of Seth himself; it was quite the tragic tale, in verity, and somehow, it made the young woman feel physically ill.

Something was definitely out of sorts with her today…

The sudden rise in ecstatic cheering and whistles was enough to snap her away from her examination of the golden fan, in time to see the curator standing before the sealed entryway, a sickening smile pulling at his thin lips as he gestured at the door behind him, spewing a few phrases in Arabic [which turned out to be more of an opening speech than anything]—"We welcome you, our esteemed guests, to a journey that takes us back to the era of wartime violence in Ancient Egypt, where the two Kingdoms were in upheaval over who to name their single unifying 'King'. Behind this very door lies the secrets that have been buried for many a millennia, and have finally been rediscovered for your pleasured viewing; as curator of Cairo's Antiquities Museum, I have been given the grandest honour of inviting you into his life as we knew it—we welcome you to the Great _'Fighting Hawk Aha's'_ resting place!"—before straightening, and unlocking the secure barricade, the door swinging to an eerie open as everyone filed into the inevitable queue that was to have been expected.

All the while that uncomfortable stirring feeling in the young woman's stomach grew, unsettling her as the hairs raised on her arms and on the nape of her neck; it was suddenly several degrees chillier than she remembered, the indication of that testament being that she pulled her jacket closer to her body, huddling into herself as she shuffled toward the entrance.

The closer she got, the sicker she began to feel.

Until finally, she was there.

Spreading her arms for the typical security clearance, her eyes shifted to the grandeur that lay within; gold leaf and more intricate carvings had been made into the very walls themselves, giving off the impression that the room was worth a lot more than it actually was, the tint given off from the varnish enough to attest to that fact.

Every inch of the room was made to appear like solid gold, the only splashes of colour being from the murals that had either been painted onto the walls (and on the flooring, of course) themselves, or the originals lining the insides of the wired glass cases, aged but still eerily beautiful.

Many of the images portrayed were of the Pharaoh conquering his enemies in battle, of peasants and royals' alike bowing to him, and a mural of a woman that was not your standard Egyptian, that was for sure.

Pale skin, fair hair that had faded considerably over the years that had passed it by (so that it was now indistinguishable), and most startling of all, _bright green eyes_—much similar to her own.

Though that couldn't have been; after all, the style of portraits in that era had been indeed very unrealistic, so documenting what this woman actually looked like would have been impossible to say the least.

But that churning feeling was starting to gnaw away at her, even as she slowly made her way into the room, growing in strength the closer she came to the breathtaking sarcophagus that was centred to everything else in the room; her eyes instantly connected with the resting place of the long dead Pharaoh—nothing else swayed her attentions.

Soon her steps had become robotic, and not long after she stood before the magnificent coffin, the encrusted jewels glinting ominously in the lighting; blood red diamonds, navy sapphires and lapis lazuli, and oddly enough, once again, the same black zirconias that had previously enraptured her, baffling yet somehow fitting, like it made _sense_ to be there, all of the precious gems equally stunning in all of their splendour as they sparkled along with the pure gold casing they were embedded in.

It seemed, judging from the length of the tomb, that King 'Aha' was significantly tall and muscular in stature, the width also confirming her suspicions as she circled the closed sarcophagus, eyes trailing over the inscriptions that had been so painstakingly etched into the solid gold; spells—to be expected—of protection, wishes for future prosperity, and the sincere pledge that all would serve him even after they too joined him at their deathbeds.

_'He must have been quite the King, if he had servants __**this**__ loyal to him.' _

She mused silently as she gazed at the face of the coffin encasement; if the picture was any bit as accurate as it seemed to be there, he was more than just 'extremely handsome'—the definition of the word.

No wonder he was considered more of a God—reputably from the women of his time—than any of his predecessors and descendents alike; he was simply… words failed her.

She wouldn't have been surprised if that was what the women that had been within his constant presence had been thinking as well; she surely couldn't have been the only one to think so.

Glancing up from her inspection, the young woman skimmed over to where a tall, lone case was erected, a single, open manuscript laying inside with dim lighting on its aged surface; it was surprising to even see a papyrus scroll _that_ ancient in mint condition, after almost five thousand years laying dormant underground, but it was there never the less, and an instant connection to it was formed.

She simply had to see what the contents read, no matter how much of it could not be made out.

Sidling over to the abandoned case—making sure to look like a casual, naïve tourist to the perusing eyes of the guards and curator—the rosette leaned in as closely as space would allow, squinting so that she could make out the entire message.

"_'From the Heavens she'_… _**dropped**_? Ah, that's not it! _'From the Heavens she __**fell**__… and The Man with the 'all-seeing eye' offered her worship, proclaiming she was the Star from Ra Himself—a sign that their famine may end. With the shifts in the Sand's of'… __**clock**_? No wait! _'With the shifts in the Sand's of __**Time**__, came inevitable change, and with the Greatest of Honours, The Man with the 'all-seeing eye' presented the Fallen Star to __**God**__, attesting to her worth and overall her links to God's Family. __**Horus**__ was his given name, as was the title of __**all**__ Pharaoh, and he soon united the two Kingdoms under the pretence that the Fallen Star would bring peace and prosperity to its people. And she did so, not only uniting the people, but His and Her hearts. Tragedy befalls all who read this just as it did so end like thus for them—'_"

The woman visibly tensed when she spoke the phrase aloud, but hesitantly continued onward, wanting to know how the story ended.

"_'That are not of God's Descent.'_"

As far as anyone knew, Pharaoh 'Aha' never married, nor conceived an eligible heir to the Throne, so quite frankly—if this caption carried any verity—she was fucked.

"_'Beware of the consequences, as His Highness __**Horus**__ can no longer be given allowance to love another unless of his Love's lineage.'_ What the…? The language has changed… _[ _امرأة حاملة سقطوا دم النجم الوحيد الذي يمكن تفعيل هذا النص…_] 'The woman carrier of the Fallen Star's blood is the only one that can activate this Spell...'_ _[_وبعد الكتابة نجوى يقرأ للجميع للاستماع إلى أعزاء عليهم العودة مرة أخرى العزيزة._]_ '_And once the Mystic Script is read for all to hear, the Loved ones return to whom they once held so dear.' _What the fuck is that supposed to—?"

It happened without any warning; one moment she had been questioning the contents of the scroll, and the next she was engulfed in a blinding light, the colour bathing her figure unrecognisable to her eyes as she felt the nausea completely take her over.

It was over in a matter of seconds—from the lavish décor of Cairo's Antiquities Museum, to an equally stunning court room.

But not just any.

It was of Ancient Egyptian standard, magnificent as it was civilised and advanced for such a culture.

The young woman was simply astounded and stunned by the genuineness of the setting. People in crisp, bleach-white garments were scurrying in every direction, some in tunics, whilst others simply adorning the equivalent of the modern-day kilt, except far more tailored and—if of a poor background—somewhat bland and plain.

Hardly something to clap your hands to when held in comparison to the splendour of the richer folk, whom all walked with a regal strut that seemed almost arrogant when observed from a close perspective; now if things weren't already weird enough, the fact that she was sprawled across stone-carved stairs that were tinted gold in the hot afternoon's afterglow at someone's feet—very clean, _manicured_ feet wearing strappy gold sandals, she observed with further inspection—upped the ante quite some.

Hushed whispers stole her from her previous ponderings, bringing her back to the situation at hand—speaking of hands, there was one literally forcing her head down, almost as if she were to be paying homage to someone.

Out of instinct, the rosette haired woman retaliated, struggling to get away, only to be pushed down further, until she was almost _kissing_ the foot in front of her—perhaps that was the intention behind the person's crude actions.

Who knew?

Losing the last shred of her temper, she snapped out, wrenching the hand from her hair and slipping out from their grasp, her emerald green eyes narrowing into a feral glare as she finally met the stunned—if not angered—face of the man that had just had her pinned to the ground.

One look into his eyes and the words all came rushing back to her, a particular section capturing her immediate attention.

_'…and __**The Man**__ with the 'all-seeing eye' offered her worship, proclaiming she was the Star from Ra Himself—a sign that their famine may end. With the shifts in the Sand's of __**Time**__, came inevitable change, and with the Greatest of Honours, The Man with the 'all-seeing eye' presented the Fallen Star to __**God**__, attesting to her worth and overall her links to God's Family.'  
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_'Oh __**hell**__ no…'  
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"You disrespect our Pharaoh so, woman? Bow before _Him_, the _God_ of our Mother Egypt before you are sentenced!"

The so-called 'Prophet' exclaimed vehemently, gesturing with a respectful bow to the man that she had just been almost mouth-to-foot with, pale ivory eyes furrowed into a glare of his own as he stared her down challengingly.

With eyes still narrowed, the rozen maiden snapped her gaze up to the figure that was casually reclining in the gold throne (God it had to be uncomfortable), left hand poised under his chin as he stared blankly down at her in turn; she immediately froze.

Royal attire of scarlet, navy blue and obsidian adorned his garbs, all made of the finest materials in all of the lands, gold-plated jewellery—rings, wristbands, ankle-bands, earrings, thick neckline/pectoral-plate necklace and an informal crown covering the expanse of his forehead—inlaid with semi-precious stones covering his entire person… but most of all, it was his _face_ that seemed most beautiful, without the need of expensive ancient jewellery to accentuate that eerie godliness.

Inky black locks—with an almost bluish tint to it whenever the light shone over it—framing his aristocratic facial features, practically defying gravity with the way it stood up in the very back, tanned skin that seemingly glowed (although that could have something to do with the scented body lotion that had been generously lathered into the toned flesh), impeccably hairless aside from the necessary areas (head, eyebrows/lashes), and what's more, his _eyes_… they practically _screamed_ breathtaking.

Onyx in colouration, she could not even _begin_ to make out his pupils amidst the fathomless depths. And they seemed to express so much with just a single glance, yet nothing at all; he was guarded, yet his eyes were lucid, riddled with every emotion he had ever felt—and right now, he was… intrigued.

The rosette woman found herself in a daze, the defiant edge in her eyes softening if ever so slightly; somehow… a part of her _knew_ him, his body, his mind, his heart and his soul, all of it.

Yet she could not for the life of her figure out how or where from.

His lips parted, and silence immediately took precedence; their King was to speak for the first time in several months (with an audience present, that is), and so what he addressed was of vital importance to them all, no matter who he was speaking to.

And when his words finally registered with her, the pinkette could not answer, simply because that unintelligible detail escaped even her.

"Who are you, woman?"

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**\*/*\*/ **_To Be Continued..._**\*/*\*/**

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**a/n: Hmmm, not quite how I imagined it would be, but I think it shall suffice for now, I guess. After all, there is still—hopefully—plenty more to come, and a sequel is already in the making as we somewhat 'speak'. **

**Cliffie enough for you people? (:  
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**Or should I have better raised the suspense? **

**Whatever your views, please drop them in in the form of a review.  
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**0+10=10?  
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**Is that an acceptable amount to ask for?  
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**Sasuke-sama is on a somewhat unofficial HIATUS right now, so whenever I get the buzz to write my other fanfics up, I shall do so promptly.  
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**And on the former note of 'sequels', I am starting another poll up ASAP, and that is to know whether I should write a sequel for **_**'Unquestionable Love'**_**; I already have a plot, but I want to know if it is worth taking the time to write out, and if the same reviewers (and new alike) will continue to support that as well as they will have **_**'Unquestionable Love' **_**by the time of its completion (which is a fair bit off, mind you all). **

**So check that out when it's up, if you would be so kind. :D  
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**Well, until next time then!**

**Ja ne! x)**

***-Sasukeluva 4eva out-***


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